


The Golden Prince

by mechanicalsky



Series: The Golden Prince [1]
Category: Voltron - Fandom, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance x Galra Keith, M/M, prison break - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-09-02 11:06:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16785718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mechanicalsky/pseuds/mechanicalsky
Summary: Prince Lance of Altea has been captured by the Galra, and Keith is the soldier unlucky enough to be assigned to guard him.





	1. In the Galra Thrall

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is only part 1!! if you do not want a part 2 i will leave it like this, let me know what to do in the comments below!!

Prince Lance of Altea, in his fine robed glory, was marched down the cold, dark hallway, veins of bright purple snaking along the walls and pulsing with power. Where his hair was once a combed chalk white, such a contrast to his brown skin, it was now dirty and ruffled, his golden crown missing. His pink, white, blue and gold dress robes were not at the peak of their glory either. The white trousers he wore underneath were saved from most of the damage, at least. The two guards gripping his arms tightly stopped, and Lance paused his struggling in fear. They had stopped in front of a black door with a glass middle. A cell. Trembling, Lance was shoved into the cell. His knees barked in pain. His palms were scratched. He pouted at his nails. They were dirty and jagged. 

“Um, hello, excuse me?” Lance called out to the two leaving guards. “Wait, no, come back! Do you have anything for cuticle care? You know, nails? Helloooo?” He slumped to the wall and sighed. He wasn’t going to getting nail products anytime soon. 

Keith, a Galran soldier, balked. “I’m sorry, Zarkon, could you please repeat that?” He said with as much politeness as he could muster. Surely he must have heard wrong.

But Zarkon just smiled. “You are one of my most trusted soldiers, you’re always on the front lines in the thick of the action. You’re respected even among the higher ranks.” Zarkon said. Keith stiffened and nodded his thanks. “Because of your low rank but high loyalty, I will be entrusting you to guard Lance’s cell.” That was fair, Keith supposed. With just a soldier rank, he was less likely to alliance with other generals.

Keith nodded. “Prince Lance of Altea, right?” 

“No. ‘Prince Lance’ has no rank here. He is the same as any prisoner.” A slow smile crept up on Zarkon’s face. “We don’t discriminate.” 

Keith thought it was funny, but his face remained passive as he nodded. “Of course, Zarkon.”

He stalked up the hallways, being led to Lance’s cell.

There was thudding on the cell door and Lance jolted up, awakening from whatever drowsy mood he was in.

“Hey, listen up buttercup!” A harsh voice yelled from outside. Lance looked up. Facing him was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. A male Galra soldier, with smooth lilac skin and a dark violet scar along his soft jawbone to his upper cheek. He had striking blue-grey eyes and hair the colour of a raven, his mullet like it’s feathers. 

“Who are you?” Lance asked softly, the tone sounding like fear. 

“You call me Keith and nothing else. Got it?” His voice was deep and sent chills through his bones. He continued after Lance nodded like a fool. “I will be guarding you. You listen to everything I say and you don’t step out of line. You will remain here until told otherwise. You eat, sleep and dispose here.” 

Lance wrinkled his nose. “No bathroom at all?” 

“You don’t get the luxury. There’s a tin can somewhere in there, I think.” 

Lance gasped. “You  _ think? _ ” 

“Go have a look. See if I care.”

After finding the tin can in a corner, much to Lance’s relief, he surveyed the rest of the cell. It was just the same as any other, with it’s black-grey walls and veins of purple. Except it was secluded from the rest of the cells, and after at least a week of staying there, he noticed that he didn’t train in the barracks for Zarkon’s competitions, nor did he eat with the rest of the prisoners. Lance thought for a second before talking.

“Hey Keith,” he started, his voice hoarse from disuse. “Why don’t I converse with the rest of the prisoners?” 

The bastard just looked at him like he was an idiot. “So they don’t try and get you out, of course. If they knew we had you here, they’d start a riot trying to free you.” 

Oh. Right. He’d almost forgotten he was a prince, being treated this way. He sighed. To think, he, a royal, being treated like some lowly commoner! 

“Why are you treating me like this? I’m a prince, after all.”

“You’re worth no more than toilet paper here.”

Lance gasped in outrage. “Not even a little bit more?”

Keith didn’t reply. Lance stalked to the back of his cell and sat cross legged, letting out a loud  _ hmph! _ just to accentuate how much he disapproved. 

Two months later, Keith was still guarding Lance, who was now in the shaggy scraps of purple galra prison-wear. He leaned against the opposite wall of the cell, watching Lance’s every move. He was sneaky, the former prince, inspecting every inch of the cell at every given chance, looking for even a slight difference. And slinky too, the way he could move around without Keith even noticing until a few seconds later.

It was silent until Lance gasped. “I’m breaking out!”

Keith growled. “Like hell you are!” 

“I know, I know, it’s unbelievable. My skin hasn’t been this bad in ages!” Lance whined.

Keith opened his mouth to say something, like maybe  _ ‘You idiot!’  _ or  _ ‘Don’t say something like that!’ _ , but he decided against it.

Keith was watching Lance when suddenly, in one feline movement, Lance stood and walked to the door.

“Hey Keithy, how old are you?”

“23, same as you. Don’t call me Keithy.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Keith rolled his eyes.

There were a few moments of silence before Lance spoke again. “Hey, Keith, do you have any hobbies than just sitting there watching me?” Keith’s nostrils flared. “I mean, I know I’m stunning,” Oh, how right he was, Keith thought. “But do you do anything else for fun?” Keith blinked.

“I like reading…” Keith said, who, to his dismay, could feel the blush rising to his cheeks. 

But Lance smiled a small smile and said, “Me too!”

“You do?”

“Yes! My favourite is probably… Strange the Dreamer!” Keith snapped to attention. “It’s really good, it’s an Earth novel abo-”

“You’re serious? I love that book! Have you read the sequel too?”

Lance gasped. “Yes! Oh my god, nobody on Altea had even  _ heard _ of any Earth novels!” Lance paused and his breath hitched, and Keith remembered that Lance was a long way from home, and Keith was to be treating him as a prisoner. 

“I shouldn’t be talking to you…” Keith sighed.

Lance looked up, sadness filling his eyes. “Please talk to me. I can’t  _ stand _ this constant loneliness.” He paused and cocked his head. “How long have you been alone?” 

“Enough.” Keith snapped, his mood souring. He didn’t want to talk about loneliness. He looked at the ground.

“I’m sorry if I talked a little too much…” Lance said. Keith didn’t reply. They remained in silence for the rest of the day, yet it felt sad and forced, their usual banter halted. 

It was the middle of the night when Lance quietly said, “Goodnight Keith.” 

Keith blinked, as much surprise as he’d show. It was the first time anyone had wished him goodnight since his brother died, almost ten years ago now. 

Keith swallowed his pride and said “Goodnight, Lance.” He almost swore he could hear Lance’s smile.

Lance sat against the corner of his cell and put his face in his hands. Why did he talk too much? Why did he probe too deep? Still, he couldn’t help the small smile surfacing to his face when the lonely soldier bid him goodnight, nor could he stop his blush from staining his cheeks a deep mocha brown. He sighed and ran a hand through his dirty chalk white hair. What was happening to him? He knew this feeling, but… He’d only felt it with girls. Oh, and those girls had never been guarding his cell. It’d been months since he’d been trapped in the Galra ship, only having snippets of conversations with the purple-skinned beauty, Keith. After an hour of sitting like that, Lance decided to sleep on it. And when he awoke, there was a book. Lance picked it up and his breathing stilled.  _ The Wonders of Altea _ , it read. Slowly, tears began to pour out of his eyes. Tiny sobs escaped his lips as he flipped through the pages, pictures of his home, Altea, warming his heart. He would’ve flipped through the page had the shackles on his wrists kept him from doing so. It was  _ sooo tiring _ , having those things on all the time. But things would get better. He knew they would. And he smiled. He could hear Keith’s heavy breathing. Not as stealthy as he thought, huh?

Keith pretended not to hear Lance’s sobs. In fact, he pretended to not even be  _ there _ , standing next to the cell door so Lance couldn’t see him. Every sob that ripped from Lance’s throat flooded Keith with the need to rush over and comfort him. But he felt like Lance wanted to be alone with the piece of home Keith had given him. Well, until--

“K-Keith…?” Lance said, sniffling. Any self-control Keith had splintered, and he barreled over to where Lance was knelt in front of the cell door.

“Yes?” 

Lance smiled. “Thank you, Keith.” 

Keith blushed furiously and Lance giggled. “You’re welcome…” Keith said gruffly. 

Lance gave him another smile, one that melted Keith’s heart. Lance was beautiful and kind and suave and everything Keith wasn’t. Lance was pure flame, beautiful, warm, fierce… and he was trapped in the dark.

“Keith?” Lance cocked his head.

“I’m getting you out of here.” Keith said, no more than a rough whisper.

Lance gasped. “No way. You might hurt yourself.” 

Keith looked up. “Please let me free you.”

Lance stared at Keith, slack-faced in horror. Keith might die trying to get him out! “No way. You might hurt yourself.” 

And Lance’s heart stopped when Keith looked up, and with pleading eyes, eyes too old and sad to belong to a soldier only 23, he said, “Please let me free you.”

“But why?”

“Because I love you, Lance!” Keith blurted.

“You… what?”   
Keith paused. “I love you.”

Lance was silent for a few seconds. “I love you too, Keith.”

“So will you let me save you, my love?”

Lance’s heart cried, and he gave in. “Fine. You better have a plan though.”   
Keith let out a low chuckle that sent chills down Lance’s spine. “Awful bossy for a prisoner being freed by his own warden.”   
“Well, I  _ am _ technically a prince, soo…” 

Keith stood up and looked down at him with a smirk, his cool grey eyes piercing into his soul. “Alright then, princeling. You listen to what I say. Our lives might depend on you focusing for once.” 

Lance nodded, slightly intimidated.

“Here’s the plan…”

Literally an hour later, Keith had finished, and Lance… was confused. How in the  _ world  _ did Keith manage to stretch that into an hour long explanation? All Keith was doing was escorting Lance to the ship while pretending to be on duty. Oh, right. It was endless repeatings of--

“I want to make sure you’re safe, so don’t look at anyone.”   
“If you speak you might get hurt.”

“Just to make sure you’re okay, bla bla bla-”

If Lance didn’t know any better, he’d say Keith was fussing. And oh, how it warmed his heart, but it was getting rather annoying. But he was going to escape with him, and that’s all Lance wanted, so he kept his mouth shut. 

“You know what to do right?” Keith checked.

Lance snorted before saying, “No, remind me for the 50th time.”   
Keith rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Be more grateful, you bastard of a prince.” Keith heaved Lance up after opening the cell door. The shackles were still on his wrists. Lance looked up in silent question.

“I know they hurt, but it won’t be too long before you’re out of them.” He whispered on his neck, his deep voice soothing, before pressing a quick kiss there, and Lance bit his lip. His entire body went molten like lava, even while chills racked his entire body. Keith’s solidness against his back was enough to distract him, in a hazy daydream, before he pushed him forward and barked, “Move, prisoner!”

Well. So much for their moment. 

Keith marched Lance past other soldiers on guard, all of whom straightened around him. Nobody would question his authority. But damn, if the shackled prince before him wasn’t alluring. He wanted to stroke the soft golden skin on the nape of his neck, wanted to hold his waist and look into his eyes, wanted to hear Lance’s-

“Keith, where are you taking this prisoner?”

Keith turned to see his mother. “I’m under strict orders not to tell. Sorry, mother.”

Krolia just smiled. “Of course. Former-Prince Lance, right?” She crouched down to his level. “Look at him. He used to be the shit. And now he’s a prisoner. Get on your knees.” 

Lance looked up. “Pardon me?”

Krolia kicked Lance’s shins and he collapsed. “I  _ said _ ,  _ get on your knees! _ ” She yelled.

Lance got up onto his knees and looked up at her.

“Keith, c’mere.” She said. Keith walked to her and looked Lance in the eyes. But then, Krolia kicked his face. Lance wavered. There was a bruise on his cheekbone. Feral wrath blinded him for a second, with the need to protect him.

“What do you want me for, mother?”

“Give him a punch. Go on.” She said, smiling wickedly.

Keith’s eyes widened, and he shook with restraint. If he didn’t do it, his mother would know… Fine. If she wanted a punch, she’d get a punch. Keith lobbed a fist at his mother’s face, knocking her out stone-cold.

“Keith! Are you-”

“Come on, Lance.”

Keith hated his mother. She was corrupt and unjust, Zarkon’s left hand. He had received brutal training from her. She had deserved that punch.

They ran to the docks and boarded the smallest yet fastest ship. Keith put Lance in the back and stated that he was alone. They left and travelled for roughly a day, Keith driving the entire time.

Keith put autopilot on and went into the back. And that was when Keith realized, to his utter horror, that he had forgotten to uncuff Lance.

“Keith… please take them off.”

“OhmygodLance, I’m so sorry,” Keith started.

Lance looked up at him. “I spent too long with these on. Please. Take them off.” His eyes were filled with fear and sorrow.

Keith took a deep breath through his teeth. If he went back to those years before he met Lance, he mightn’t have cared what happened to the prisoners. But now that he saw what two  _ months _ could do to a person, imagine the people who had been there for  _ years _ … Keith walked over and unshackled Lance, and he inspected his bare wrists. He blinked at the thick lines around them, paler than the rest of his skin and marred with ugly scars.

Lance looked at them, the invisible shackles that would forever remain on his skin, a constant reminder of the time he served. Lance shook, sobbing silently. Keith cradled Lance in his arms.

“It’ll be okay, Lance…” he whispered softly, Lance’s head in his chest. “You’re safe now… you’re going home.” 


	2. Into Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith are free, but they run into Coran. He doesn't approve.

Lance sat in the main room of the ship, the other being the pilots room, where Keith sometimes worked on the ships mechanics. Lance had offered to help multiple times, but Keith had promptly refused, saying Lance needed to rest. They’d been travelling for about a month, swiftly avoiding Galra fleets and stopping off at scavenger planets to get gas and scraps for the ship.

“Keeeeith, I really need to pee! Are there any nearby planets?” Lance whined.

Keith gasped and hurriedly typed on the dash. “Yes, in 10 minutes,” he said, relieved.

They stopped off on a planet the colour of rust called Pleat. Lance rushed to the bathroom. He stepped out after relieving himself and gasped. Keith was in a full on _brawl_ with a random Altean man in scavenger clothing. A ring of different species, men, women, _whatever_ , were huddled around them, chanting “Fight, fight, fight!”

Lance ran desperately to the circle. “Keith! Keith! Are you okay?”

Keith grunted as a fist connected with his face. “Lance, tell this buffoon I haven’t kidnapped you!” he gasped.

Lance looked at the man assaulting Keith. He had jaw-length orange hair the texture of straw that consumed his head like a forest fire, and an unruly moustache the same bright hue. Lance gasped.

“Coran?!”

Coran whipped his head to Lance. “Prince Lance! I’ve just been fending off your capturer while you ran! Get out of here!”

“No, Coran! You’ve got it wrong, he _saved_ me!” Lance yelled, gasping for breath after the run. He got between Coran and Keith, holding up a hand.

“But Prince, he’s Galra?” Coran said, eyeing Keith warily. Then his eyes moved to Lance’s wrists, and he gasped.

“I know, I know, let’s just go already!” Lance said, grabbing both men by the wrists and tugging them forwards. Coran glared steak knives at Keith. Keith returned the favor by making an obscene gesture at Coran, who’s eyes widened in outrage. Lance sighed.

Keith didn’t know who this ‘Coran’ dude was, but he sure as hell didn’t like him. For starters, he didn’t leave Lance’s side, accompanying him even to the bathroom. He didn’t let Keith anywhere _near_ Lance, unless Lance walked over to him, otherwise he’d throw a hissy-fit. If he wanted to hold Lance’s hand? Nope, Coran was asking for help making green food goop. If he wanted to tell Lance things would be okay? Sorry, Coran needed help charting these maps. If he wanted to chat with Lance about Earth novels? WAIT, NO, _CORAN_ -

“Keith!”

Keith’s head snapped towards the sound of Lance. He was running over to him with a big smile plastered on his smooth honey skin. Keith couldn’t help but smile and open his arms wide. Lance jumped into them and they hugged.

“I’ve barely been able to talk to you, Lance. Coran is taking up all our time.” He said, his words laced with poison.

Lance frowned. “He doesn’t like Galran people.”

Keith snorted. “I can tell.” 

“But then again,” Lance started, a little too airily, “not many Altean people do, because, y’know…” He trailed off awkwardly, looking at Keith apologetically.

Keith just smiled. “I understand. We’ll get them to like me.”

Lance grinned widely. “We sure as hell will! Because we’re gonna get _engaged_!”

Keith froze. His eyes widened. He looked down at the small tan angel in his arms. Then it started.. raining? Keith looked up, frowning.

“I could’ve sworn it was raining… but we’re inside. That’s impossible... “ He murmured to himself. “Is there a leak?”

Lance giggled. “You’re crying, silly. Tears of joy, no doubt.” He said, putting a modest hand to his chest.

Keith wiped at his face. “I… haven’t cried in over ten years.”

Lance stopped smiling. “Why?”

“My brother, Shiro, was killed by Zarkon for disobeying his direct orders. He fell in love with a human prisoner named Adam and tried to help him escape. It didn’t work. Zarkon executed them both in front of me when I was thirteen. I haven’t cried since then… but I guess it’s completely different circumstances, right?” Keith said with a light chuckle, hoping he hadn’t ruined the mood.

Lance just looked at him and pressed a feather light kiss on each of Keith’s tear stained cheeks. He grabbed his hand and led him to his room, where he ordered Keith to sleep, or else he’d ‘beat him up’. Keith chuckled, but was too tired to protest as he fell into a peaceful sleep upon laying down.

Lance smiled at Keith, who fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. “You work too hard for me…” Lance muttered, smiling. He yawned, and couldn’t resist climbing into bed close to the purple rogue. And, much like Keith, he fell asleep instantly.

And an hour or two later, they were rudely awakened by Coran.

“Ughhh, Coran! What time is it anyway?” Lance asked drowsily.

“3:27 AM.” He replied, angrily eyeing a flustered Keith, his face flaming upon finding Lance cradled in his arms.

Lance squinted his eyes at Coran. “Why did you wake us _this_ early?” He suspected it was because Coran didn’t approve of their relationship. Just imagining what Coran would do when he found out they were engaged made Lance worried.

“W-Well, I, uh-” Coran started, before Keith flopped his head down on the pillow again and wrapped an arm around Lance’s waist. Lance had to suppress his giggle, as Coran looked like he was about to burst, veins popping out on his forehead.

“Sorry, Coran, we’re very tired. Can you come, at, like, 8:30 or something?” Lance said, smiling guiltily.

Coran apologized and bowed, before turning a wary eye upon the sleeping soldier and leaving.

All was quiet until Keith murmured, “Territorial bastard…” and pulled Lance closer.

Lance had to laugh. “Out of anyone _you’re_ the ‘territorial’ one.”

He felt Keith’s smile, and he turned around to give him a quick kiss, and catching a fleeting glimpse of Keith flushing a deep violet before turning back and going to sleep. He grinned. But his grin dimmed when he thought of what Altea would make of this. An Altean Prince and a Galran Soldier. One of the most unlikely pairs known in the galaxy itself. Keith’s snores weren’t enough to stop him from falling into a fitful sleep, dreaming about violet skin, cramped spaces, disapproving masses and heavy metal shackles.

Keith awoke at 7:00, an hour and a half before Coran was due to annoy the hell out of him. He smiled at the sleeping prince, before quietly getting out of bed. He keenly felt the absence of his warmth, and was half tempted to go lie down again before Coran came, but he needed to say something to the man. He walked to the ships main room, where Coran was looking at a clock, humming. His humming halted though, and his face puckered in distaste.

“You’re early, for once.” Coran spoke venomously. Then, somewhat airily, he added, “I heard Galra sleep for an unusually long amount of time and snore so loud the devil himself could hear.”

Keith didn’t miss a beat. “Yes, it’s so we can function properly and remain ever vigilant. It seems to be working well, wouldn’t you say, Coran?” He cocked his head.

Coran scowled. “What do you want, anyway? Come to tell me of your secret plan to kill Lance?”

“What? No!” Keith said, genuinely angry. “I love Lance.”

Coran looked angry, and was about to speak, before Keith spoke again. “I saved him.”

“Huh? _You?_ A Galra soldier, _saving_ Lance? Hah!”

“It’s true. Lance was captured by the Galra almost five months ago, yes? I was assigned to guard him.” This earned a surprised look from Coran.  
“Lance never told me this…”

“Well, of course he didn’t. It was probably traumatizing. It was painful for both of us, him to endure it, and me to have to watch him.” Coran remained silent, an indication for Keith to carry on. “There were days where he wouldn’t talk at all, refused to eat, and just laid about all day. Those were his worst. I willed him to eat and exercise, because if he didn’t he’d definitely fall into ruin.”

“So? You made him eat and move so he could endure that torture for longer.”

“No!” Keith snapped. “I wanted him happy and healthy, however impossible it might’ve been in that hellhole. I talked to him to keep his mind up and running. Social contact is a huge necessity, you know. He might’ve gone mad.”

Coran didn’t speak.

“And after I heard him crying, I _knew_ I had to get him out of there. I loved him, you see, and I still do.” He said, quieter. “I always heard his little winces of pain from the shackles. Do you know how he always wears long sleeves?” Coran nodded. “Scars. They’ll always be there, reminding him of the hell he lived for two-almost three-months. Those months, all he had for support was me.”

“Oh. I see.” Coran sighed through his nose. “I’m sorry. For treating you that way. I just thought, you-you were brainwashing him, or forcing him to do this. I seriously misunderstood. Could you ever forgive me…?”

Keith smiled. “Of course. It’s a mistake that’s bound to happen many times.”

Coran looked sad at that statement. “Well, when we get to Altea, I’ll personally tell the King and Queen what you did, and with Lance backing you up too, they’re bound to approve of your engagement.”

Keith gasped. “You knew? About the engagement?”

Coran smiled slyly. “No. I was just confirming my theory.”

Keith chuckled. “Lance will be happy to hear.”

Lance woke and yawned, feeling for the strong male body beside him but sad to find it wasn’t there. “Keith?” He called.

Curious, Lance left their room, searching to find Keith. He was sure to find him bickering with Coran, but was surprised when they were laughing at Lance’s… what?

“Oh my god!” Lance wailed, seeing them looking at an album of his baby photos.

“Hey Lance!” Keith smiled. It was only then, he noticed, that they weren’t fighting for once.

“Hello, Prince! We’re just looking at some of your baby photos… oh, look! There you are with Allura!”

“Allura? Like, Lance’s sister?” Keith asked, looking over. Lance walked up to them and peered over their shoulders. He saw a picture of Allura, aged maybe two or three in a pink dress, and Lance in a nappy crawling next to her.  
Lance slapped his hands over his eyes. “So embarrassing!” He cried.

Keith laughed. “Look at you! So adorable!”

“And oh, look, his nappy is full!” Coran giggled, watching Lance flush deep crimson with amusement.

“Shut up, ohmygoddd!” Lance cried, snatching the album. He looked at the photos of his home and frowned.

Coran seemed to understand. “Don’t worry, Prince. We’re only a week away.”

Lance gasped and dropped the album, Keith looking just as shocked. “Only a week?” Lance smiled, giddy.

Coran smiled back. “Only a week.”

Keith stood, a grin on his face, and enveloped Lance in one of the biggest hugs he’d ever had. But Keith was trembling, he noted with a frown. _What’s wrong with him?_ Lance wondered. But he had a feeling he knew.

They were only a week away from Altea. Keith hugged Lance, hoping he could restrain his trembling with a tight hug by straining his muscles. He swore he could hear Lance’s frown, if only for the slight shift in his muscles.

“I need to go do something real quick.” Keith said, smiling too much to seem normal, and speed-walked out the room. He sped through the hallways upon leaving, and sprung into his and Lance’s room. He collapsed on the bed. God, what would they think of him? Seeing a _galra_ leave that ship next to Lance… would they just kill him on sight? Would they let him and Lance get married? He put his elbows on his knees, head in hands, and cried. Heavy, panting breaths between ugly blubbers and sobs. No matter what happened, things just wouldn’t work out for them. But hey, they could try at least. A knock came on the door.

“Keith?” A tentative voice that could only be Lance’s spoke. “I’m coming in.” He said, more firmly. And sure enough, Lance entered, still looking fabulous even in the baggy blue flight gear Coran supplied for them.

“What is it?” Keith asked, cursing himself inwardly for giving away his distress. He didn’t want Lance worried, nor did he want Lance upset.

“I just wanted to know what’s wrong… I can tell something’s up.”

Keith sighed. Nothing got past Lance and his strange attentiveness. “It’s just… what will your people think of me? Will they kill me? Will they like me? Will they let us marry? I’m so worried, Lance.” Keith said, finally loosening up, letting worry tighten his throat and slice his words.

Lance pulled Keith into a tight hug, letting Keith bury his head in the crook of Lance’s neck. He felt safer, Lance’s hands stroking through his hair, tiny kisses wherever Lance felt the need to give, sweet nothings whispered into his ear. He felt his tears soaking through Lance’s clothes and dripping, but he didn’t think Lance cared.

“I love you so much, Lance.” Keith murmured, sniffling a little. They sat in silence for the rest of the night, slowly falling asleep.

_Keith walked through the grassy plains, juniberry flowers rolling over the hills and stretching as far as the eye could see. He turned. A brown skinned boy with hair as white as clouds, eyes as blue as a spring, not summer, sky, and a smile as sweet as honey. Keith reached for him, but as soon as he touched the boy, he turned to dust. He gasped and fell to his knees. The grass lost its green colour and became barren. He looked to the sky. It was turning red. Keith turned and his brother was there._

_“Shiro!”_

_“Keith…”_

_“Shiro! Are you okay, I-”_

_“Leave me alone. I died because of you.”_

_Keith fell to his knees. “No… that’s not why y-”_

_Shiro disappeared, and Keith was alone again._

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is only part 1!! if you do not want a part 2 i will leave it like this, let me know what to do in the comments below!!


End file.
